Invisible Wounds
by Fenikkusu Ai
Summary: Joey keeps telling himself he'll stop, but the man's a drug despite it all. SetoxJoey. Rating due to subject matter.


Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh or any of its components.

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"Leaving so soon, Wheeler?" 

Seto's voice came out in a mocking lilt. Burning with shame, Joey hiked up his jeans; fumbling with his belt in the process.

After no reply was forthcoming, Seto frowned. "I asked you a question. Please answer while you're in my damned bed."

"I…have to get back." Joey was frustrated that he couldn't keep his own voice from shaking.

Seto snorted. "To whom? Your family? Your father?"

"I…just want to _go_…"

"Really?" Seto made a show of sounding astounded. "As I recall, you couldn't wait to come here tonight. Or any other night for that matter."

"You don't know _anything_ about me," Joey countered hotly with more boldness than he truly felt.

Seto's expression remained impassive. "Well, I suppose we have only been lovers for one month…"

"Stop it," Joey moaned as he physically covered his face with his hand. Still, the memories of this evening's events were permanently etched in his brain. The heat. The fury. The passion.

_The biting, the scratching, the tears that accompanied the all-too-familiar overwhelming pleasure…_

Pleasure that only _he_ could seem to provide.

"I'm ending it." In vain, Joey attempted to steady his tone. "I am. Tonight. Now."

Seto reclined against the pillows. "Why, Wheeler, I haven't heard you scream that loud since I've had the pleasure to know you. Did it not…please you?"

"Bastard." Joey gritted his teeth as his fingers dug into the bedspread. "Sick bastard."

"Me? Sick?" Seto's eyes held false shock. "I'm not the one arranging these trysts, am I? Aren't you, in fact, the "sick" one?"

Joey slowly began to shake his head. "I don't know. I don't know. I don't even know why I began this twisted arrangement--"

"—Because you enjoy me breaking you." Seto smoothly interrupted in a timbre that rivaled ice. "You come here like a little lost boy and pour out your every frustration. In _my_ arms."

Somewhere deep inside, this resonated with the very core of Joey's being as he pondered those cruel words.

_It feels right…somehow. Right to be used by him. Used, torn, and exhausted by sadism and lust. _

Even above his friends, Joey had outlined his invisible wounds to none other than Seto Kaiba.

_Because he doesn't care._ _Because he all but delights in my suffering._

Here, his gnawing inner pain found a wicked release. And, it was wicked—wicked as he was. There were also so many other reasons.

_In this place, I don't have to be a hero. I don't have to be the poor boy on the side of the street that isn't fit for society. I don't have to be a "mistake." Oh, no. When I'm in here, I am reduced to a mass of flesh and sensations. I don't have to be…anything except what he wants me to be. _

What a freedom that was sometimes.

Lazily, Seto directed his finger towards the door. "Then leave, Wheeler. Go into the cold night. Deny yourself my company. Deny the only person that as you say…'understands'."

Joey swallowed the formless lump in his throat. Could it really be all that simple?

Tilting his head upwards, his longish chestnut hair brushing the back of his neck, Joey watched the shadows dance on the pristine white ceiling. He didn't move a muscle.

Joey's forthcoming voice was akin to a growl. "You know I _can't_."

Seto laughed lightly. "Good boy."

Yes, in that instant, Joey felt precisely like the dog his long-time enemy insisted he was.

Wiping aside a tear, Joey completed his dressing. To his back, Seto spoke.

"You can drop by tomorrow at ten, Wheeler. Announce yourself at the gate as usual."

"What? As your…student?"

Another chuckle. "You might say that, yes. We can't let anyone else know about your shameful secret, now, can we?"

_No, we cannot._

Despising every inch of himself, Joey let himself out through the many meaningless unending corridors; pausing only to swing open a forgotten door to welcome winter's chilly embrace. Once across the threshold, he was immediately swallowed by the night.

And, he welcomed it.

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Author's Note: That's the most extreme darkness I've written in a while. This may be turned into a two-shot, so I will keep it open-ended. 


End file.
